


Refugee

by Croik



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 01:10:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Croik/pseuds/Croik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josie welcomes all new angels to her home, even when their timing could be better.  Takes place before Yellow Helicopters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Refugee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [omens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/omens/gifts).



A new angel came to Night Vale last night.

She came by bus--the last bus of the night, with the city tucked away in bed, and only the distant, blinking beacon of the radio tower to light her path down dusty avenues. With nothing but her feathers she made her way to the edge of town past the car lot, up the driveway of packed earth and onto a faded welcome mat. She had to bow her head to fit on the porch. Some angels are even taller than others, after all, and she is a tall one.

She tapped on the front door, only twice, and waited. A cold desert wind rustled her sagging, battered wings, and she grimaced, trying to draw in tighter and smaller. Her pain and doubt showed in her face. Count yourself lucky if you never see something like that. A lonely angel will break your heart without meaning to.

The porch light came on, and its gentle glow rippled like a symphony across the angels prickled skin, and she almost wept. Then the door opened, Erika at the knob, and he regarded his visitor with calm and sleep-addled curiosity. The angel returned it with a hopeful yearning.

"I didn't know where else to go," she said.

Erika stepped aside and motioned for her to enter. "Come inside. You're safe, here."

Old Woman Josie was asleep in her armchair again. It's bad for her back, and sometimes the angels take turns carrying her to bed. Erika left her alone, for the moment. He led their new guest to the kitchen, stepping over sleeping angels along the way, nudging their knees and wings and sometimes a tail out of the way to keep anyone from ending up underfoot. In the kitchen, Erika lit only a pair of candles, but even that dim light was enough to rouse Eryca from her place of rest curled up under the table.

"Fetch a blanket," said Erika, and Eryca hurried to comply. He then guided his guest into a chair. "What name do you go by, child?"

"Airicca," said the angel. She tried to shrink within the chair as Erika studied her, but she was, as we've said, an angel of considerable size. Her weary wings dragged on the floor and her long head sank into her shoulders. "I'm sorry I disturbed you."

"You didn't." He placed an empty glass onto the table in front of her, trusting her to fill it as she preferred. "You're not the first to come, even as late as this. You must have come a long way."

Airicca wrapped her long fingers around the glass and filled it with swamp fog, cool and melancholy, reaching for the sun just before it's seared away. She drank it slowly to make it last as long as possible. "I tried to come once before," she admitted quietly. "I've heard a lot about this place. But I was weak, and..."

Erika shushed her, though not unkindly. "You don't have to explain." He moved behind her. "Spread your wings for me, Airicca."

"I..." She tried, but she was so tired, so weak still, and she grimaced with the strain. "I don't think I can."

"I'll help you, then."

Eryca returned, and she draped the blanket over Airicca's lap before moving to assist as well. She took Airicca's left wing gently in her hands and stretched it wide. There were dark speckles among the feathers, black even in the candlelight, heavy and hot in the cool, dry kitchen. Erika was very thorough but very gentle. He sank his fingers deep in Airicca's thick feathers, plucking out the broken and twisted quills. Everywhere he touched was blessed with pinpoints of healing light. At times it tingled and even stung, but Airicca gripped her cup and didn't make a sound. She kept her eyes closed, all of them. She was embarrassed and relieved and grateful and afraid. Her heart soared out of her, fluttering, as her caretakers moved on to her right wing. Then they were finished, and Eryca draped a second blanket over her shoulders.

"There's a place for you, by the hearth," said Erika, and Eryca whistled quietly as if envious. "Go to sleep, but don't dream, if you can help it. Dreams can come later."

"Thank you," said Airicca, bowing her head. "Thank you."

She tiptoed back across the room, to a space by the hearth just at Josie's feet. Eryca was right to envy her. On either side slept another angel, and as Airicca curled up among them they wriggled unconsciously closer. The floor space was already warm and it smelled like cinnamon and cactus milk. She wondered if Erika himself had given up his place for her. The thought was both exciting and mortifying, and she doubted that she would be able to sleep, so low to the earth. So close to the slow, steady breathing of an old human woman. But she closed her eyes, and with the blankets around her, she slept.

The new angel woke up in Night Vale this morning. She was the last one up, and the house was already bustling with angels going about their daily chores. One was dusting the cabinets. One was tying bows in the curtains. One was fiddling with the television, trying to get decent reception. An angel with very dark skin helped her to her feet and smiled. An angel's smile isn't anything like a human's smile, but you'd know it, if you saw it.

"Can you cook?" he asked.

Airicca was dumbfounded. "Why would I?"

He laughed and brought her to the kitchen. There were angels there, too, crowding so close together at the counter that they had to stretch their wings straight out behind them in order to fit. One of them was Eryca, and she waved to Airicca before returning to her apparent task of shredding a melon.

The angel at her side introduced himself as Yrrikah. "We'll have to find you a job," he said. "Maybe you'd like to mind the lawn. Or string laundry."

"The lawn?" Airicca repeated, having to remind herself of what each word even meant. "Laundry?"

"Or whatever you like. I'm sure there's something for you to do--there's a frightful amount of work to be done, considering Josie lives here alone. Who knows how the rest of the town even manages on their own." He smiled again at Airicca. "You are going to stay for a while, aren't you?"

Airicca's heart was fluttering again. She hoped it wouldn't give its brother any trouble, if it kept at it. Can't have both hearts in a fluttering state even when your entire angelic life has turned upside down. "I would like to," she said. "If I can."

"Good!" Yrrikah glanced around the kitchen. "If you can't cook, you might have to ask Erika for a job. I think he's outside."

Airicca ducked through the back door and came out in the yard. There indeed she found Erika, standing at the edge of the small plot of land with the human woman Josie next to him. They were both staring up into the void, which was a sleek and impenetrable violet at the time. Airicca approached slowly, her yet-recovering wings brushing through the sand despite her attempts to remain silent and respectful. As soon as she was close, Erika turned and saw her.

"Good morning, Airicca," he greeted, and Josie turned as well. "Ma'am, this is Airicca," he introduced. "She's the one I was just telling you about."

Old Woman Josie nodded, and she looked Airicca over with a sympathetic eye. "You don't have to tell me why you're here," she said, and her wise, aged voice reminded Airicca of home. "Or why you left, or what you've done. You be respectful, and you have a place here. That's how it's always worked."

"Yes, ma'am," said Airicca, quivering with happiness as she bowed her head. "Thank you."

Erika gathered himself up. He was radiant in morning hues and his skin glistened. "You've come at a strange time, Airicca," he said. "A time when I would like to have you pluck weeds, but instead, I may soon ask something more of you."

Airicca's elation turned to dread, and as she watched Erika's wings flex against the wind, she felt she understood. She wanted to tell him that she was ready to fight for him if he asked it of her, because she had nowhere else to go and needed to earn her place, if there was a place for her there. But she was afraid, and she said nothing, and she was ashamed of her weakness.

Old Woman Josie stepped forward then, and she smiled. "Don't look so dreadful, dear," she said. "There is still plenty of time for plucking weeds." She motioned for Airicca to follow. "Come along. I'll show you which of the beds need it the most."

Airicca did just as Josie told her to. She plucked weeds, and trimmed a hedge, and even pruned a few branches from the only tree in the yard, too high up for the other angels to reach. The day was peaceful and pleasant, but now that it is night, and she is curling up in front of the hearth between Yrrikah and Heireka, she is thinking about Erika standing at the edge of the lot. She remembers his back, tall and straight, his wings spread. Her own wings are still weak and she hopes they will be fully mended soon.

"I hope I can stay here," she says to no one in particular, and Yrrikah reaches across the short space between them to squeeze her hand.

"You can," he says as the lights in the house are put out, and Eryca takes her turn tucking Josie into bed. "You'll be fine, here." He squeezes harder. "Just try not to dream, if you can help it."

Airicca nods, and closes her eyes. She listens to the other angels settling, some of them quietly humming as they drift off to sleep. She feels her limbs get heavy and sleep is close. She tries not to dream. But I think she just might, before the night is done. Angels are very good dreamers.


End file.
